My Immortal
by LJ1983
Summary: Sequel to my one shot, 'Beyond Comradely'. A month on from the events of said story, and an AU Hell On Earth, Joey Summerskill is shocked by some life changing...and impossible news!


**My Immortal**

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own _Hellraiser_ or its characters. Credit goes to Clive Barker, Pete Atkins and - grudgingly - _Dimension Films._

**Author Introduction:** This is a sequel to _Beyond Comradely,_ a one shot I wrote one year ago today. It's very AU and there probably won't be a _Bloodline_ judging from where this is going. XD It's kind of a romance, yes, but there's much more to the story than that. I hope anyways. Please enjoy!

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If you enjoyed this story and want to know more about my work, then you can like the LJ1983 Facebook page.

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><p><strong><span>Prologue<span>**

_One Month Later..._

Joey Summerskill awoke in the pitch black darkness of her New York apartment room, within the crisp, clean sheets of her bed; her lithe and supple body slick with sweat and trembling hands frantically outstretched before her in a desperate search of another set of hands that only she could see within the blurred reality of her waking dream.

Again, she had dreamt of _him..._

Elliot Spencer.

The man who had come to her within her dreams one month previously to warn her of the upcoming evil attempt at world domination from the demonic half of himself. A demon that they thankfully stopped before it was too late.

Her dreams of him was always so vivid, so fraught with pain and suffering. Her visions were always of him - Elliot - writhing horribly with hooks barbed into his beautifully tanned skin, his flayed limbs tightly bound to spinning pillars. His handsome face scrunched in terrible agony as the revolving pillar of gore and bone he was hung upon twisted him around in an unsteady, jerky movement and caused the lacerations to bleed afresh and for the nasty rusted things pinning him up to tug, rip and tear ever more at his flesh, muscle and bones - causing unbearable agony.

Blood ran in narrow streaked rivulets across his strained and overly tortured body. His cool as ice baby blue eyes widened in horror and agony, and looking directly to her, begging for help and much wanted relief and release. His free hand, shiny with his own blood, outstretched for hers. Joey could do no more than stare in utter fright and alarm at seeing such a kind man strung up helpless like an animal carcass at a butchers' shop, and she was frozen rigid to the spot.

_"Jo-Joey...ple-please...he-help...me..."_

Elliot's English accented voice, pained and sounding similar to a throttled serpent in its strained hiss, called out for the tall and angular reporter, begging her. She had slowly begun to move forward, snapped free of her frozen spell, her own hand outstretched for his. Their fingers were always inches away from touching when shrill, mocking inhuman laughter filled the darkness of the kindly soldier's place of torture.

And then he was directly behind her...the ends of pins tickling slightly at her neck and a pair of muscular, leather bound arms snaking around her waist. Chilled lips pressed like air against her ear, whispering something about coming back to collect her soul and that this was far from over. His cold leather gauntlet hand then began rubbing circular motions across her flat abdomen as she screamed out into the echoey silence of her nightmarish realm.

And that was always when she woke up; dazed, confused and adrenaline sky high, her heart racing and thundering away like an express train beneath her rib-cage.

Joey had lost count of the number of times this very same dream had plagued her sleep since the awful, horrific events of the month previously. She had assumed, rather realistically, that she was suffering from some form of Post Traumatic stress following the sights and horrors she had endured. Seeing her friends, her very good friends, murdered and reanimated into blood lusting S&M demons.

Sweet little doe eyed and dark haired Terri; homeless with nothing other in the world but a burgeoning friendship with the ambitious reporter. Daniel 'Doc' Fisher; the encouraging and kindly tousal haired mustached middle aged cameraman who was always willing to see Joey with big talent and heading for her big break, despite teasing from her fellow employees at the station about her clean and un-slutty professionalism to her job.

Both good and innocent people, recruited along with other innocent souls to serve him - that, that monster who she had hated with every fiber of her being...but rather confusedly also fell in love with...and had sex with for that one special time in another realm of existence.

Elliot Spencer. The man with the clean cut, friendly features and frost blue eyes of pure kindness when she gazed to him in Limbo, bestowing a gentle boyish smile upon her. An army Captain from World War one, and once transformed to serve Hell as a demonic creature obsessed with pain and pleasure thanks to a certain golden cube shaped puzzle box over seventy years previously. His human soul had escaped the confines of his darkness, thanks to a certain young girl five years ago, named Kirsty Cotton, who had bravely reminded him of his long forgotten humanity.

But he had been sent to the torturous realm of Limbo where he would be forever reminded of the war he fought in so long ago, the war that had twisted him up deep inside and had disillusioned him. But the darkness that had been born of those very feelings, Elliot's unbidden desires personified - mutilated, leather bound and face tattooed with pins - had unfortunately been released on Earth after sacrifices of blood. This creature that was another side of Elliot had nearly destroyed the planet, had almost plunged it into the very pits of Hell itself during his power hungry greed, but Joey and his human side - the brave and handsome Elliot Spencer - had managed to stop him and send him back to where he rightfully belonged - in Hell. But at a price.

Elliot had been sent back too. There was no other choice, and for that Joey would forever feel regret and sorrow. Hence why she believed she kept having these strange, horror filled dreams of Elliot's suffering somewhere in Hell.

Was he truly suffering? Was he in agony somewhere down in Hell while his demonic twin watched on in profound glee and sadistic pleasure? Was he trying to warn her over something? Did he desperately need her help?

Or was it just simply dreams conjured up by the traumas her eyes had seen of that night and had fed her mind?

She did not know for sure, which only served to torment her more than she already was.

However now, back in the real world, her racing heart rate now slowing to a normal and regular pace, and her rapid heavy breathing now coming under control, Joey turned her blue, wide eyed gaze to her clock - the big red digital numbers screaming at her that it was now six in the morning, despite the darkness which was still descended over her apartment. Much was evident when she stared over to the drawn curtains and seen minuscule rays of light trying to push its way in from outside.

Stretching her arms over her head, a big yawn escaping her lips, Joey achingly and rather reluctantly risen from the snug warmth of her bed. Her sore, sleep ridden eyes adjusted to the concealed dark throughout her spacious apartment as she groggily made her way toward the window, the very window she walked through and stepped into an alternate reality to meet him just a month before, and harshly drew back the curtains. The bright, beaming sunlight shone and lit up the entire room and stung at her heavy eyes, and it took a moment or two for them to grow accustomed to the blinding light which was now flooding in and forcing her still slumbering brain to awaken.

Joey sighed as she gazed ahead into the beautiful, bustling city from the view at her window. A city that, just a month before, nearly came close to being sucked into Hell. Nobody but her would ever know of the evils they nearly tasted, of the evil demon that almost ruled over them all with cruel sadistic power, and for that she felt such envy, but simultaneously she was grateful they were blissful ignorant. These dreams were growing ever more vivid by the day, much more torturous and more painful to recall. It was getting just too much.

Choosing to ignore the previous night's macabre visions conjured up by her own tormented mind, Joey Summerskill headed straight for the shower room, hoping that the soothing, warm cascading water would wash away all her troubles and night time sights within her head.

It was rather funny; she had decided to keep that old fashioned transistor radio dated from the early nineteen hundreds she had found within her airing cupboard back that fateful night. Where it had truly come from, she would never know, but it had come in quite a good use first thing in the morning when she woke up. For some reason, it still continued to pick up radio signals from the stations of today, and she would always turn it onto a station which played lulling soft jazz music she had truly grown to love. She would listen to it every morning as she got ready for work, and the gentle music never failed to relax her tense muscles - along with a calm shower.

Stripping herself down naked, Joey stepped into the tub and allowed the jet of water to freely cascade down her body, washing away all her aches and stiffness, relaxing her tense muscles. But as much as it soothed her physical woes it could never wash away her mental anguish, no matter how much water splashed down her body.

Those horrible, torturous images once again returned to her as the warm water flowed down her form, and in the heat induced steam she felt nausea over come her, especially when Elliot's panicked and pain stricken face came into her visions once again, his whispery, strangled hiss begging for help and his body ravaged by hooks and nails.

And then, a familiar cold and dark voice cut into Elliot's gentle and desperate pleas, mocking and gloating; "Oh Joey, this is far from over. Such sights we have yet to show you..." The voice purred darkly in her mind. "...We haven't forgotten you, Joey. And soon, we shall be coming...for the both of you!"

Evil, echoing laughter filled her head and faded slowly as she came to her senses, still within the hot stream of water in her shower. She quickly covered her mouth as she gagged forcibly, and as the nausea became more pronounced, she leapt out of the shower, completely naked and dripping wet - and forced her head into the bowl of the toilet, retching and purging out whatever was left within her almost empty stomach.

Such terrible, choking sickness which lasted a good five minutes.

Joey was quite unsure of the cause of her sudden vomiting, for she had been sick the previous two mornings as well. But surely such sudden nausea so early in the morning and which had just overcome her was merely the result of the heated steam of her washroom, or the somber and cold delusions which would not leave her be.

As she carefully dabbed at her mouth to rid of the contents of her stomach splattered along her lips, Joey decided to take down a mental note reminding her to make an appointment for herself to see her doctor on her way to work.

Something odd was happening to her, and had been happening to her since the events of the month previously.

But of what? She never knew.

She simply had to wait and see...

_**To Be Continued...**_

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><p><strong>Coming Soon...<strong> Joey receives some impossible - if miraculous news, we meet Nikki; a highly skeptical co-worker and friend of Joey's, we take a trip back to a very different Hell On Earth from Joey's point of view, what's Pinhead's plan? If any? Will we see Elliot again? Are Joey's fears of a tortured Elliot even real? If so, will they be realized? Tune in next time to find out!


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